


stay with the all unknown

by poplocknsonnet



Category: Supergirl (TV 2015)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Pirate, F/F, I ain't a history major, Minor Samantha "Sam" Arias/Alex Danvers, Not Period Accurate, Pirate Lesbians, Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder - PTSD, no real violence because I'm a wimp
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-07-12
Updated: 2018-07-12
Packaged: 2019-06-09 05:02:43
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 11,243
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15259989
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/poplocknsonnet/pseuds/poplocknsonnet
Summary: Captain Kara Danvers saves Lena Luthor's life when she rescues her from a pirate attack. The privateer offers to take her as far as Havana, where she can arrange passage home on a Luthor Trading Company vessel. However, there's more to the attack than meets the eye, and in the face of a terrible betrayal, can the two women find love and undo past crimes?Spoilers: the answer is yes.





	stay with the all unknown

**Author's Note:**

> Unbeta'd because I don't have a Supergirl beta. If you're interested in the kinds of things that I write, let me know if you'd be willing to look over some stuff in the future!
> 
> Title is from a Metric song. I feel like Lena would listen to a lot of Metric.

The last thing that Lena remembers was the noise, the terrible shriek of _The Lutessa_ ’s deck splintering under the sustained cannonfire that had brought her down. There had been no warning; the ship had appeared a simple merchant ship until she’d run up the Jolly Roger and opened fire. It couldn’t even have been called a battle; _The Lutessa_ and her crew had not been prepared for an engagement, not so close to friendly waters.

Lena opens her eyes blearily. Patches of water blaze where casks of lamp oil had split; fragments of the ship and her contents bob gently up and down, scattered across the water. After the hellscape of attack, the aftermath is almost serene. Her head aches; the sun beating down is so hot, but the water is cool, and the rocking of the water beneath the beam she holds is calming. Surely she can close her eyes for just a moment.

The next time Lena opens her eyes, she is back in bed. It was just a dream - thankful that everything was okay, she burrows into her covers and takes a deep breath, reveling in the unfamiliar scent. Wait. This is not her bed.

She sits upright and looks around - this isn’t her cabin. In fact, she is fairly certain that it isn’t even _The Lutessa_ \- after her’s and the captain’s quarters, there shouldn’t be space for another room this large. She looks down - those aren’t her clothes. Where is she?

Just then, the door to the room swings open and a blonde woman walks in. When she sees that Lena was sitting up, her face breaks into a wide, sunny smile. It may be the recent trauma, but Lena could swear with a clean conscience that it’s the most beautiful smile in the world and that it belongs to the most beautiful woman in the world. “You’re up!” the vision says. “Alex! She’s up!”

A red-headed woman carrying a black leather bag joins the blonde and the two step into the room.

“Who are you?” Lena asks, wincing at the rasp that comes out of her parched throat.

“I’m Kara Danvers, captain of _The Krypton_ ,” the blonde woman says, handing Lena a glass of water from the bedstand, “We’re kind of privateers?” She shrugs. “It’s not important. You’re welcome to-”

“You can’t introduce us like that,” the red-headed woman says, rolling her eyes, “We’re definitely privateers, no matter our captain’s reluctance to admit it.”

“I’m not reluctant, it’s just awkward,” Captain Danvers protests.

“I’m Alex Danvers, ship doctor and first mate,” Alex says, ignoring Captain Danvers for the moment, “We’re heading towards Havana. Is there a friendly port in the area that we can drop you at?”

The two share a last name, Lena notes - how are they related? They don’t look particularly similar. Are they cousins? Wives?

“If not, you’re welcome to stay with us until we return to England,” Captain Danvers offers, “If that’s better.”

“We’re not a ferry service,” Alex says sourly.

Lena cuts Captain Danvers off before she can retort. “Havana is fine,” she says - the Luthor Trading Company has an office there, don’t they? - “I won’t impose on your hospitality longer than I have to.”

“It’s no imposition!” Captain Danvers insists.

“Yes, because as soon as the ship’s doctor deems it fit, she’s helping us get there,” Alex says drily.

Lena nods - she’d grown up on and near ships; her family runs the largest trading company in the seven seas after all, and while she had never had to work as part of a crew, she’s familiar with all that it entails.

“We pulled you out of the wreckage of that trading ship,” Alex explains, “You had a pretty nasty knock to the head, but it’s nothing that rest won’t be able to fix.”

“You were lucky to survive. I- I’m sorry, but you were the only survivor that we were able to find,” Captain Danvers says, the pain of delivering such news evident from the set of her jaw, the distance in her eye.

Lena’s face falls. The news is no less bad for being expected. “Thank you for telling me,” she says, “And for saving my life as well.”

There’s a moment, and then: “Not to be rude,” Alex says, although Lena gets the impression that Alex is more than prepared to be rude if she has to, “But who are you?”

The two women seem nice enough, but Lex has taught her that privateers are only pirates in nicer clothing and so she is wary. “I was the ship’s mechanic,” she lies without missing a beat, “Lena Thorul.”

“Pleased to meet you, Ms. Thorul,” Captain Danvers says, “Please, let me know if there’s anything I can do for you while you’re aboard my ship.”

“Call me Lena,” Lena says, unsure that she’ll be able to reliably respond to the fake name.

“Then you’ll call me Kara,” Captain Danvers says, the sunny smile back in full force.

“You can call me ma’am,” Alex says.

“You can call her Alex,” Kara corrects, “Don’t be ridiculous, Alex.” There’s an ease to their banter, a familiarity that Lena aches for. She was once that close with Lex, but they’d drifted as the demands of the company piled up on him following their father’s death.

“You’ll have to stay in bed for at least the week,” Alex says, “I’ll know if you’re overactive.” There’s a threat in her words, but Lena can sense that it’s rooted in a desire to see her well again, so she just nods.

Satisfied, Alex exits the cabin, leaving Kara and Lena behind. “Your wife has an interesting bedside manner,” Lena says, testing her first hypothesis.

Kara laughs. “Oh, no, Alex is my sister. But yes, she can be a little prickly. She does care, though.” Lena notes with some interest that Kara doesn’t refute the implication that she could have a wife, just that it isn’t Alex. “She’s also a good doctor, so if she says you need rest, I should leave you alone to do just that. If you need something, just shout out - I’ll let the crew know that we have a guest on board.”

And then Kara leaves as well, and Lena is alone in the cabin. The prospect of a week’s bedrest is torturous; Lena is an active person, a curious person, and on a strange ship surrounded by strange people, there’s altogether too much to seek out and to discover for her to feel comfortable lying down for so long. She debates calling out, but it feels childish to take someone away from their duties on the ship just because she wants company.

She’s not alone with her thoughts for too long before there’s a knock at the door. “Come in,” she calls out, grateful for how the sound turns visions of splintered decks and burning oil to smoke.

Kara is back and she drags a tall man with dark skin and no hair in by the hand. “This is James,” Kara says, “He’s _The Krypton_ ’s cook.” This is somewhat surprising; from James’ solid build and large stature, she would have assumed that he held a more physical position, that he worked on deck and helped in battle.

“Pleased to meet you,” James says, extending a hand for her to shake. That he is pleased is evident from the easy smile on his face and the sincere tone to his words, but he could just as easily be pleased to meet her as he could be pleased from the respite from his work. Still, she takes his hand and gives it a firm shake.

“Lena Thorul,” she says, “Mechanic.”

James has brought her a meal of some kind of meat stew over rice; it’s fragrant and glistens with fat. She hadn’t been aware of just how hungry she was, but the wonderful smell awakens the beast within her. Still, no matter how hungry she is, she was raised a Luthor, and so she takes measured bites.

Kara laughs. “I’ll bring the dishes back to you when she’s done, James” she offers, “If you want to get back to your wife.” Not Kara’s husband, then.

James considers this for a moment and then nods. “It was nice to meet you, Ms. Thorul,” he says.

“Lena, please,” she replies, “This stew is lovely.”

James smile broadens for a second, before slipping back to the easy grin that seems to be a constant of his character. He turns and leaves the cabin, shutting the door gently behind him.

“You don’t have to be so formal here,” Kara says once he’s gone.

“Pardon?” Lena asks.

“Like that,” Kara says, motioning to the spoonful of stew that Lena had replaced in order to speak, “I can tell that you’re hungry. It’s okay to eat quickly, to be a little messy.”

Lena can feel her cheeks heating; her tendency to blush was always something that Lillian had hated; betraying emotion was not the Luthor way. “I- I’d hate to make a mess in someone else’s bed,” she says, and it’s true, if not the entire truth.

Kara laughs. “Trust me, the bed’s owner has eaten and spilled many a meal in those sheets. It’s nothing they haven’t seen before.”

Lena looks down reflexively, but the red and blue checked pattern is too busy to distinguish any stains. “Whose room is this?” she asks, although she has a suspicion as to the answer.

“It’s mine,” Kara admits, “James doesn’t allow me to take meals in here anymore. Not after the amount of food that he claims I waste by spilling, and the soap and water I waste washing the sheets afterwards.”

“Doesn’t allow? Aren’t you the captain?”

Kara shrugs. “I suppose I could order him to serve me, but that’s not really my style,” she says, and for Lena, who grew up watching her father, and then her brother, dish out order upon order, it’s a concept as foreign as it is endearing.

Lena eats a little faster after that, but she’s still careful to not make a mess. For one, no matter what Kara insists, she’d hate to make a mess in the blonde woman’s bed, and for another, the food is really too good to waste.

“Where are you sleeping?” Lena asks.

Kara shrugs. “I’ll fold up some sailcloth or something,” she says, “I can sleep anywhere.”

Lena is horrified and she’s certain it must show on her face. “No, I can’t- no. I can’t take your bed from you; you’ve already done so much for me. I should be the one sleeping on the floor.”

“I don’t mind. It’s good to have you in my bed. I mean,” Kara blushes, and the pink that fills her cheeks is disarmingly pretty. “It’s good for you to be in the bed because you need it to recuperate.”

“I- We can share,” Lena says, “Neither of us is very large, there’s more than enough room for us both.”

The pink in Kara’s cheeks darken and she swallows. “Are you sure? I mean- you’re a guest, Lena, it’s really no burden.”

There’s a moment where Lena panics and considers taking the out that Kara’s offered her, but her pride wins out. “No, it’s fine,” she says, against her better judgement, “If it’s okay with you. I mean, the bed is so large and I don’t want to be a burden.”

“You’re really no burden at all,” Kara says, “But thank you all the same.”

It’s not long before Lena finishes her food. After Kara returns from dropping the bowl off at the kitchen, it’s time for bed. “I’m going to change,” Kara says, “If you don’t mind.”

“Oh,” Lena says, and the thought of Kara shucking her coat and breeches, and of her skin, nut brown and glowing from constant exposure to the sun, brings a flush to her cheeks. “I’ll just-” and she turns around to give the other woman privacy.

It’s not long before she feels the bed dip as Kara settles in next to her. “Good night,” Kara murmurs, and extinguishes the room’s lamp. Kara’s assertion that she can sleep anywhere plays out and she’s soon asleep. And for all that Alex insisted that she rest, Lena isn’t certain that rest is in her future, not with Kara so close. They’re not touching, the bed is large enough for that small comfort, but they’re close enough that Lena can feel the heat radiating off of Kara’s body, can smell the honey-sweet scent of her hair, can feel the bed rise and fall with each of Kara’s breaths.

Despite the quiet torture of the proximity of such a beautiful woman, the Sandman eventually claims Lena and she nods off.

When she wakes up, there’s an unfamiliar weight on her chest. She blinks the sleep from her eyes and looks down; Kara’s arm is slung over her chest and her head is tucked into Lena’s shoulder. It’s quite the way to wake up, and Lena can feel her heart rate spike. She looks down at the woman who has been so generous, when a thought strikes her.

“Kara?” Lena asks.

“Mmmm?” the other woman mumbles.

“Kara, what happened to my clothes?” Lena asks.

Kara shoots up and out of bed, her eyes a little wild. She looks around the cabin before her eyes slide, almost unwillingly, to Lena’s body. “I- What do you mean? Your clothes are all on.”

Kara’s actions don’t really make any sense, but it’s a little too early to try to unpack them and deal with her current issue, so Lena moves on. “No, I mean, what happened to the clothes that I was wearing when I was brought on board? And whose clothes am I wearing now?”

Kara seems calmer when she answers. “We had to- that is, yours were soaked and torn to shreds. Lucy changed you,” Kara explains.

“Lucy?” she asks.

Kara is happy to introduce her. They must have slept in, because Kara is only gone for a minute or so before she returns, leading a brunette with an attractive, angular face and full lips who must be Lucy. Kara grabs her coat and her breeches from the floor and all but runs out of the door with a promise to be back later.

There’s an awkward moment in which Lena is too groggy to really be certain what to say when meeting a woman who’s already undressed you once before, but Lucy breaks the silence. “I heard you met my husband,” she says, and Lena nods - the image of Lucy and James together makes sense.

“We met on this ship,” Lucy recalls fondly, “I could tell he liked me when he kept trying to give me extra portions of food.”

“How long has _The Krypton_ sailed?” Lena asks.

“I’m not the person to ask,” Lucy says with a shrug, “I joined later - other than the sisters, only Winn has been here from the very first.”

“Where were you before?”

“My father was captain of _The Red Tornado_ ,” Lucy replies, “It was once the jewel of the Royal Navy.”

“I think I remember that,” Lena says, “There was a mutiny? And the ship was destroyed.”

Lucy nods. “It was the ship’s engineer, Morrow. He wanted to take prizes; he wasn’t interested in serving the navy. He led the crew in a revolt, but _The Krypton_ ’s arrival put an end to those dreams. That was four years ago. I’ve sailed with Kara ever since as the boatswain.”

There’s a quiet, steely loyalty to Kara in Lucy’s words that Lena soon finds is perhaps the only commonality among the motley bunch that make up _The Krypton_ ’s crew. Over the next few days, the daylight hours are spent with one person or another, either Alex, with her twice-daily checkups, or Winn, the mechanic on _The Krypton_ who is eager to trade notes, or Mike, the gunner, who is maybe a little bit too forward (okay, a lot too forward) or John, who is either a hardened criminal using an assumed name or whose mother hated him from birth, because Lena can’t imagine anyone - not even Lillian Luthor, who isn’t exactly known for her maternal instincts - voluntarily naming their child “John Jones.”

As varied as her days are, her nights are all the same; they begin with Kara extinguishing the light and getting into her bed and end with Lena, exquisitely aware of how close the other woman is, indulging herself in the scent of Kara’s hair, the warmth radiating off of her skin, until exhaustion claims her.

It’s not just that Kara is beautiful - which isn’t to say that Lena is as suave as she would like to be around pretty women - it’s more that she seems to be constantly surrounded by a halo of intensity, of passion, that Lena can’t help but be swept into. There’s a vivacity and a love that characterizes Kara’s approach to everything, whether it’s introducing Lena to her crew, or sharing a buttered roll - a rare luxury on a voyage as long as theirs - with Lena, or telling stories of the far-off land in which she was raised.

These exhilarating moments of Kara and the easy welcome of her crew are punctuated by the in-between times, the moments when she’s left alone and conversation is replaced with cannonfire, when Kara’s face is replaced by the prow of _The Lutessa_ sinking into dark water.

It gets better once Alex declares Lena healed and fit for action. For one thing, she doesn’t have to spend her entire day in Kara’s bed, torturously enveloped in her scent, her essence. She’s free to roam the decks, or as is more often the case, free to disappear into the belly of the ship to Winn’s workshop, where she can help Winn with whatever project he’s working on and - maybe more importantly - gain some reprieve from the siren who captains the ship. For another, she is no longer reliant on others to stay busy, to stay occupied, and she can use the workshop, the ready company, even the unwillingness of the crew to swab the decks for a respite from her visions.

However, no matter the respite during the day, she joins Kara in her bed each night, and the proximity is no less intoxicating the tenth night than it was the first.

It’s been just over four weeks since Lena was rescued by _The Krypton_ when the crew encounters _The Indigo_. Lena is searching through a box of tiny gears when a bell begins to ring, insistent and loud. “Winn, what’s going on?”

Winn smiles, clearly pleased with himself. “There’s bells all over the ship, if you activate one, you activate them all. It’s a system that I designed a few years back.”

Lena’s impressed, not just at the initial design, but at the fact that it’s still working after so much time at sea, but he didn’t really answer her question. “But why are they ringing now?”

Winn listens for a moment. “Ah, I think that’s the call to battle stations.”

“What?” she asks, panic gripping her chest.

“It’s odd to find someone this far out, but it happens,” Winn says, oblivious to Lena’s distress as he collects his arms, “We run into pirates frequently enough near the coast-”

He continues to talk, but Lena isn’t listening; her ears are full of gunfire, of screams, of the sound of steel on steel.

Someone clatters down the stairs, a flurry of activity. “There you are!” they exclaim - it’s Kara, and Lena has never been so relieved to see someone in her life.

“What do I do?” Lena croaks, the still ringing bells and the thought of imminent battle threatening to completely overwhelm her.

“Come with me,” Kara says, holding out a hand, “I’ll show you a safe spot to watch from.”

“Watch? I don’t- I-”

“It’s okay,” Kara says, her voice quiet, intimate, “Let me show you that we can protect you. It’s all okay.”

Lena nods mutely and lets Kara lead her by the hand to her cabin. She opens a cabinet to reveal four square mirrors, each set into the wall behind. “These are sort of like periscopes,” she explains, “Winn set them up a while ago, but I’m on the decks too much for them to really be useful.”

Kara’s scent lingers on every object in the room and at night, it’s torturous, but now, in the bright morning with battle on the horizon, it’s a comfort that Lena didn’t know that she needed. “Okay,” she says, “But what if-”

“If they make it through us, there’s a sword and a brace of pistols underneath the bed,” Kara says, “But they won’t make it through.” Her voice is steely, inviting no argument.

There’s a cry from deck and Kara moves to the door. Before she leaves, she fixes Lena with a long, hard look. There’s a quality to her eyes that Lena can’t quite decipher - it could be worry, or it could be longing, but before Lena can be certain, Kara has left and shut the door behind her.

With no other choice, Lena turns to the mirrors and begins to watch the events on deck. Two of the mirrors combine to afford good coverage of the deck, while the other two just seem to show open water. There’s a moment of confusion until Lena notices the small knobs on the sides of the cabinet. Turning them tilts and angles the two water-bound mirrors, and Lena has to hand it to Winn - it’s a truly impressive piece of engineering. With her newfound control over her field of view, Lena searches the water surrounding _The Krypton_ until she spots the other ship. A modified Jolly Roger flies from its first mast, three red dots set in a triangle on the skull’s forehead.

It’s coming in parallel _The Krypton_ , and Lena can see the cannons, primed and ready to fire. It’s too familiar, and memories of how _The Lutessa_ fell to a broadside rush in. It’s too much to take and Lena closes her eyes, the anticipation of the scream of cannons heavy and cold in her stomach.

It never comes. Lena eventually opens her eyes; the other ship has moved out of her mirror’s view and she spins the dials until she can see it again. There’s movement on the ship’s deck; looking closer, she can make out the faces and clothing of the crew of _The Krypton_ \- they’ve boarded the pirate vessel and from the looks of it, are quickly and efficiently overwhelming their opponents.

Watching the battle is almost clinical, separated as she is by a series of mirrors and some hundred yards; it’s as if she’s being told the story of a battle, one that she can’t be sure actually happened. All that gives it away as an actual fight are the faces - she can see Alex, as fierce and determined wielding a cutlass as she is wielding her doctor’s bag, and Mike, his easy smirk unfazed by the chaos around him. She can see John tower over his foes, can see Lucy dart in and out, as vicious with a dagger as she can be with her words. But most of all, she can see Kara, who is almost joyful in combat as she descends like a hurricane upon her enemies. Her hair, which is usually tied back in a messy bun, is down, and it flashes in the sun as she spins and slices. She can’t hear through the mirrors (although she is certain that if they put their minds together, she and Winn can make it happen) but she can see the fierce laughter bubble out of Kara’s mouth and in that moment, Kara is so beautiful that it aches.

The battle is over and for all her worry, there isn’t a casualty among _The Krypton_ ’s crew. The other ship, which she learns is called _The Indigo_ does not fare as well. A fierce pirate ship that terrorized the Caribbean coasts, it’s both a sign that they’re close to their final destination and a worthy prize.

John and Alex will take part of the crew over and sail it the remainder of the way to Havana, where it will be sold under prize law.

Kara returns to her cabin, flushed from the activity and jubilant. Lena can smell the adrenaline - although it may be sweat - and tamps down the desire to throw herself at the other woman.

“Do you do this often?” Lena wonders aloud.

Kara shrugs. “We’re becoming somewhat known on the seas,” she admits, “So certain ships steer clear, while others, like _The Indigo_ , seek us out. How was it?”

“The mirrors are incredible; I can’t wait to talk to Winn about them,” Lena says, although she knows that wasn’t what Kara asked.

“No,” Kara presses, “How do you feel?”

“I- I’m okay,” Lena says, almost surprised to note that it’s true.

“Good,” Kara says, “We won’t let anything happen to you while you’re on _The Krypton_.”

And Lena believes her, believes the woman who manages to be steel and sunshine all at once. She’s had her doubts about whether disembarking at Havana to return to her old life is what she truly desires, and the solemnity with which Kara just vowed to protect her doesn’t help clarify.

That night is harder than the ones before, and they don’t get any easier, until, finally, they make port in Havana. It’s a little past midday when they drop anchor in the crystal waters outside of the bustling port city.

Lena was pulled aboard with no possessions, but is prepared to leave with several spare sets of clothing, a dagger, and some food and coin, pressed upon her by Kara who wouldn’t accept no for an answer.

The crew has gathered on deck to head ashore, eager to spend their wages, to eat fresh food, or just to feel solid ground beneath their feet.

“Ms. Thorul,” John says, ever formal, “It’s been a pleasure.” It’s a little strange that he’s here to see her off; of _The Krypton_ ’s crew, she has interacted with him perhaps the least. There’s a strange, piercing quality to his gaze, like he can see through your mask, read the words in your mind, and its unsettling.

“I- It was wonderful to meet you,” Kara says thickly, surging forward, and for a wild moment, Lena thinks that Kara is going to kiss her. Instead, the other woman wraps her in a tight embrace, and for all that Lena has never been properly kissed, this must be almost as good. And perhaps if she had been honest from the beginning, perhaps if she’d told Kara who she was from the start, she would stay, but the lie, like a frayed rope, threatens their fragile connection and she’s afraid that if she pulls to hard, it will snap.

So she says her goodbyes, as difficult as they are, and heads into Havana. She has a vague idea where the Luthor Trading Company’s offices are, but before she sets to seeking them out, she stops in a tavern for a drink. She sits down and a woman with thick dark hair, tied up with a green bandana walks over. She’s pretty, Lena notes, and in a past life, one where she hadn’t met Kara Danvers, it may have been enough to fluster her.

“Buenas,” she says, “¿Qué tomarás?”

“¿Me traes un vaso de ron, cuando puedas?” Lena responds, the language a little clumsy on her tongue. It’s been years since the tutoring that Lillian insisted on.

The barmaid smiles at her and nods, turning to fetch the drink.

While she waits, Lena looks around the tavern - it’s past the mealtime rush and there aren’t many patrons. A group of men play cards for pennies in the corner, while a young couple gazes lovingly into each others eyes at the bar. There are a few men dressed in what looks like the uniform of a military that Lena doesn’t recognize, and a scruffier group that, by the looks of things, likely exists on the other side of the law. Lena’s heartrate picks up when she sees them, but is distracted by the return of the barmaid and her drink.

“Ron,” she says, “Un trago hermoso para una mujer hermosa,” with a smile that tells Lena that the flirtation isn’t serious.

“Gracias,” Lena says, depositing a coin on the table and drinking from her glass. Beautiful might be a strong word for it - she’s had good liquor in her time, one of the perks of being a Luthor - but it’s smooth, with an almost caramel finish and it’s not long before she’s drained it.

She leaves the tavern and looks for the dock, to try to orient herself before looking for her brother’s company’s offices. She decides that it’s most likely past the open air market that’s a few streets down, and then a little further into the city after that. She heads out, and now that she’s been entirely apart from Kara and _The Krypton_ for an hour or so, the shade of leaving has lifted slightly, leaving room for excitement at heading home, at seeing her brother again. It suddenly strikes her that Lex has had to live with her assumed death for nearly six weeks. That she hasn’t thought about the pain that she’s inadvertently caused him feels like a betrayal and she picks up her pace.

And that’s when disaster strikes. One hand covers her eyes, the other her mouth, and before she can muster the energy to struggle, she’s pulled back into an alley where she’s blindfolded and gagged with two strips of some fine cloth.

“I told you it was her,” a gruff voice says.

“How did she survive _The Lutessa_?” another voice responds.

“Beats me,” the first voice says again, “But she must have the worst luck in the world to end up here of all places.”

“Come on, unlucky,” a third voice says to her, “We’ve got to get you inside. This’ll be easier if you don’t fight back.”

One set of arms grasps each of hers, and with a hand at the small of her back, she’s taken off into the depths of Havana.

After their initial discussion, the three men - although there could be more, for all Lena can tell - are silent, leading her quietly and swiftly through the streets.

There’s the sound of a door opening, and then Lena is dragged down a flight of stairs, her feet knocking painfully into each step. The air is a little cooler, a little wetter; she must be in a dungeon of some sort. She’s forced into a chair, her arms are bound behind her. The hood is pulled from her eyes and she can see the men who captured her. They’re smartly dressed, in the sharp coats and well-made boots of well-to-do sailors. The room is not a dungeon as Lena imagined, but a storeroom. Barrels of salt meat and casks of ale line the walls, and trade goods - bolts of cloth, fine pottery, boxes of spices - are stacked neatly.

“We hate to do this, Ms. Luthor,” one of the men says, and Lena would almost take him for sincere, were it not for the drawn blade that he holds, “But business is business.”

Her eyes snap shut as she prepares for a blow that never comes. Instead, there’s a sudden wild commotion from above and a voice, a familiar voice calls out, “Lena! Lena, where are you?”

She opens her eyes to see the men that had bound and kidnapped her taking up their arms, positioning themselves to defend the staircase. It’s all for naught, however, as the crew of _The Krypton_ attacks.

The skirmish is brief, but bloody. By the time the dust has settled, each of Lena’s assailants and a bevy of their reinforcements has fallen to the _The Krypton_ ’s steel.

“Is everyone okay?” Alex asks, ever the doctor, “Triage necessary?”

“My arm got tagged, but it can wait until we’re aboard again,” James says, holding up the limb in question. Red has blossomed across the white fabric, soaking through the sleeve and dripping slowly onto the floor.

“Put some pressure on it,” Alex says tightly, “And wrap it with something; I can treat it better on the ship, but we’ll draw too much attention on the way back if you don’t cover it up.”

James nods and begins to cut a section off of a folded bolt of cloth.

“Alex, and I will take James and Lena back to _The Krypton_ ,” Kara says, trying to untie the knots that bind Lena’s arms, sawing through the rope with a knife when she can’t, “Winn, can you and Lucy stay behind and try to figure out who these thugs are? Search upstairs; it looked like there were offices up there. John, if there are any survivors, you know what to do.”

Winn nods, and Lena is led up the stairs, leaning on Kara to support her still-shaking legs. The walk back to _The Krypton_ is a blur; every unfamiliar face - and in Havana, there are many - is another potential threat, and Lena’s nerves are ragged by the time they reach the dock.

James’ wound is a simple matter to clean up; within minutes, he’s changed his shirt and gone back to town to finish purchasing supplies. The three women retreat to Kara’s cabin where Lena lies back in the bed, the once unfamiliar scent of Kara now a comfort as it envelops her.

“How did you find me?” Lena asks once she is calm enough to form the words.

“James was buying more flour when he saw those thugs dragging you away,” Alex replies, and the heat that enters her voice on Lena’s account makes Lena’s heart surge, but the rest of her words rather ruin the effect: “Why do you think they were after you?”

In unsavory ports, there are always reasons to snatch up warm bodies. Extra  hands could be pressed into scrubbing decks, extra legs could be whipped into carrying packs, extra arms could be forced to row when winds were unfavorable, and, well, there were always uses for the bodies attached to extra pretty faces. But Lena knows that the men who had taken her from the port were too well equipped to be simple slavers, too well-dressed to be whorers.

“I’ve deceived you,” Lena says, wincing at how sharp the words were in the silence of _The Krypton_ ’s hold. “That is, I haven’t been fully honest,” she amends, trying to dull their edge. This is it. There is no coming back from this admission, no way to un-say it. Her throat feels suddenly parched, and for a wild moment, Lena isn’t certain the words will actually make it out of her and into the world, until she hears her traitorous voice, as smooth as ever, “I am Lena Luthor. Lex Luthor, of the Luthor Trading Company is my brother. It is likely that I was intended to be ransomed.”

Becoming Lena Luthor again after being Lena Thorul for so many weeks is like slipping into an old corset - familiar, yet restrictive. Her back straightens into the perfect posture that Lillian schooled into her daughter over the years; her face involuntarily adopts the haughty expression that Lena Luthor wears like a mask.

As abrupt of a transformation as Lena’s is, it is nothing compared to the change that goes over Kara and her first mate. Kara’s face, normally so warm and pliant hardens, sets into a coldness that renders her almost unrecognizable.

“You’re related to Lex Luthor?” Alex snarls, advancing on Lena, “We should have left you in that basement to rot.”

The venom in Alex’s words is almost physical - the redhead is sarcastic, makes biting jokes that could inadvertently hurt, but she never spoke with the kind of malice that she uses to spit out Lex’s name. Lena’s mind races - what could Lex - the brother who had always made sure to bring her a new exotic fruit whenever he travelled, the brother who had taught her to build and to repair a ship - have done that so affected the two women?

At Alex’s words, Kara seems to catch herself. Her face is still hard, her mouth set, but the chill has left her eyes. “No,” she says, “She’s not her brother.”

Alex turns, and Lena is selfishly glad for the respite from her anger, even as it is directed towards Kara. “What? You can’t mean to keep her with us.”

“I can and I do,” Kara says firmly.

“How can we keep her with us? She could be a spy for her brother, for their company.”

“If she was going to do something, she would have done it a long time ago.”

“And you trust her? After what her brother did to Clark?”

Kara’s face cracks. “Don’t use him against me like that, Alex.”

Clark? Who was Clark that he meant so much to Kara, and what had her brother done to him? Lena only knows of one man named Clark that her brother had ever been involved with and she is certain that the gentle Captain Danvers is not fighting back tears because of Lex’s attempts to keep the sea free of pirates.

“I- You’re right,” Alex says, deflating, “That was out of line.”

“She’s not her brother,” Kara says, the finality clear in her voice, “I won’t see her punished for his crimes.”

Alex begins to argue the point just as Lena begins to ask just what her brother had done when there is a sudden knock at the cabin door. “What is it?” Alex asks, irritated at the interruption as much as she is with what had been interrupted.

Winn walks in, a sheaf of papers clutched tightly in one hand. “Did you know that she’s related to Lex Luthor?” he asks shrilly, pointing at Lena with his other hand.

“Old news, Schott,” Alex says, “What else did you find?”

“I think I should tell you in private, first,” he replies, glancing at Lena.

“She shouldn’t be alone,” Kara counters, “She’s had an exciting afternoon.”

“Is that what we’re calling it?” Lena asks more confidently than she feels. “I’ll be fine,” she says, wishing that saying it would make it so.

Kara gives her a long look before saying, “If you’re sure,” and leaving with Alex and Winn.

The flashbacks are worse this time. Explosions and the shriek of splintering wood overlap with dark basements and threats of violence, threats of worse. The two or three minutes that she spends alone in Kara’s cabin last an eternity, long enough to relive the attack on _The Lutessa_ and her kidnapping a dozen times over, every explosion, every blindfolded step wrought in exquisite detail in her mind’s eye.

Kara doesn’t knock, but the door creaks open when she re-enters the room. The sound brings Lena back to reality and she’s certain that she must be pale, shaking.

“Lena,” Kara says carefully, “I’m truly sorry to have to tell you this. The attack on your ship before we picked you up and your kidnapping today, they were both ordered by the same person.”

“I know. Was it Lord Maxwell?” Lena asks, willing herself to be calm, willing herself to be the Luthor she was raised to be. “He’s had it out for my brother for years.”

“No,” Kara says, wincing, “It’s- I don’t know how to say this, Lena. It was Lex, both times.”

“I don’t believe you,” Lena says flatly.

“I didn’t believe it either,” Kara says, “Not even with our… history, it seemed like too much. But Winn found these letters, with his seal and signature, and the building they took you to is registered to the Luthor Trading Company.” She holds out several letters that do, in fact, bear Lex’s wax and name. “I’m so sorry. I’ll leave you alone for now.”

Lena almost says no, almost asks Kara to stay with her, but the words won’t come. Instead, she takes the papers from Kara’s hand and watches the other woman leave, closing the cabin door behind her.

Alone once more, Lena flips through the papers by the waning light that shines through the porthole. The orders are unmistakably penned in Lex’s hand; the signature and seal are distinctly his.

A sick feeling blossoms in her stomach, cold and heavy like an iron cannonball that somehow made it through her esophagus. She wills her trembling hands to unfold the papers, wills her eyes to read the words, wills her stomach to keep its contents down as she reads her brother order her death.

The missive is brief, clinical. “ _Sink_ The Lutesssa,” they say, “ _No survivors. Make it look like pirates,_ ” and the fact that her life is only worth ten of Lex’s words hurts almost as much as the betrayal itself.

In a daze, she leaves the cabin and stumbles up to the deck, desperate for fresh air, desperate to see Kara. She’s dismayed to instead see only Alex, eyes closed, and leaning against the railing.

She must have made a noise, a groan or a sigh of some sort, because Alex turns, and the pity in her eyes turns Lena’s stomach.

“I don’t know what my brother did to you,” Lena says, walking over, “But obviously, he and I don’t see eye to eye any more.”

“It’s not my story to tell,” Alex says quietly, “She’s probably up in the crow’s nest. She likes to take the night watch when she’s thinking about something.”

“Thank you,” Lena says, surprised by Alex’s gentle tone.

“Just- don’t hurt her, okay? She seems so strong, and she is, but she’s been through so much already.” There was a steel to Alex’s words, a strength behind the threat that Lena would might have been afraid of had hurting Kara been so far from her mind. “And Lena?”

Lena turns back to Alex.

“I’m sorry. About Lex trying to, well. That and for jumping at you earlier. Kara’s right - you didn’t deserve any of it.”

Lena nods. The day has been turbulent; she feels like a dinghy, tossed about by a storm and unable to muster the strength to row against the winds and the waves. Her arms still feel numb from repeated shocks, but if Kara is in the crows nest, she’s certain she can muster the strength to climb.

“Night watch is unpopular among the crew, but I don’t mind it,” Kara says, once Lena’s made it up the ladder. Her tone is quiet, like she’s speaking to herself, and she hasn’t so much as turned her head. “When I’m alone up here, in the dark, with just the stars above and the water below, it almost feels like I’m flying.”

“Oh,” Lena says, taken aback, “I’m sorry, I can leave, I didn’t mean to-”

“No,” Kara says quickly, “I didn’t- please stay.”

By the light of the stars, Lena can see Kara move aside to make room for her in the crow’s nest. She slips inside; there is only just enough room for the two of them; Kara’s back presses into Lena’s chest as they look out into the distance. They stand in silence for a minute or so, the smell of Kara’s hair all that Lena can breathe. “You’re right,” she says eventually, “It does feel like flying.”

“I’m always right,” Kara chuckles, leaning into Lena. “You’re here because you want to know what Lex did to us, right?” The question is casual, as if she’s just asking Lena how dinner had been.

“That’s not the only reason,” Lena admits, “But yes.”

“We can get there,” Kara offers, “If there’s something else first?”

Lena’s heart leaps into her throat; she could kiss Kara right now - they’re so close, every brush of Kara’s skin against hers pulses and resonates, magnified into the vast darkness, like an echo in a yawning cave. “I-”

“Yes?” Kara asks, turning her head slightly, no matter that it is too dark to really make out faces.

“When we first met, you said you were only kind of a privateer,” Lena manages, cursing her cowardice as soon as she hears the words.

Kara’s delighted laugh rings out into the emptiness. “Really? That’s what you came up to ask?”

“I-” Lena is grateful for the dark. She can’t see Kara’s face, but that means that Kara can’t see the terrible blush spreading across her face, her chest.

“I do have a letter of marque,” Kara says, continuing as if Lena didn’t try to say something, “Or, at least, _The Krypton_ does.”

Lena nods - that letters of marque applied to ships and not to captains is well known.

“I received the letter directly from the Queen for saving her son, Carter, from pirates. She told me that she couldn’t have her son’s savior arrested for piracy herself, so she wrote me the letter of marque to protect me.”

“The Queen’s favor! If-” Lena catches herself before she can say Lex’s name, “I imagine any sailor would be proud to display such a letter.”

Kara chuckles. “I was, for a time. Favor isn’t a good enough descriptor of what I enjoyed of the Queen. I became her favorite at court; she enjoyed showing me off. My social status rose and rose until I found myself betrothed to Prince Adam. Our parting strained my relationship with the Queen.”

Lena is shocked; the words slip out before she can stop them. “You left him? Was it for Clark?”

“Clark?” Kara blinks. “How did you-?”

“Alex mentioned him earlier.”

“I didn’t- Clark was my cousin. Your-” Kara stops; heat has entered her words. She takes a deep breath and leans back into Lena before continuing in the same frank, conversational tone that she’d used before. “Clark was a privateer. I don’t know why, but he was captured by ships belonging to the Luthor Trading Company and executed by the French government for piracy.”

“Wait- Your cousin is Clark El? The captain of _The Overman_?”

Kara snorts. “So you read the papers.”

Lena nods, knowing that Kara can feel the motion.

“None of it’s true,” Kara says, and the heat is back, but it’s passion this time, not anger, that warms her words “Clark wanted to make the seas a safer place. He was raised in the New World and dreamed of an ocean safe enough people could make the voyage there and back to see the beauty he was raised in. It’s why we were in Havana. The governor there issued the letter of marque for his ship and I wanted to see if he’d testify in court.”

“And?” Lena asks, knowing the answer already.

Kara shakes her head. “He denied it. He claimed that he would never have issued such a letter to as dangerous a ship as _The Overman_. This might have been a dead end, but I’m not going to stop until I can clear Clark’s name.”

“So if you didn’t leave Adam for Clark?” she eventually prompts.

Kara hums, before admitting, “He wasn’t really my type.”

Lena’s heart takes up a sharp staccato, fast and insistent; she is sure that Kara can feel it against her back. “What’s your type?” she asks, proud of how steady she is able to keep her voice.

“Somehow still oblivious that I’ve wanted her to kiss me for the last ten minutes,” Kara teases.

Embarrassingly, it takes Lena a full second to fully parse what Kara’s just said, but as soon as her brain catches up to her ears, she’s pressing forward, and Kara’s turning her head, it somehow manages to be everything that Lena expected and more.

She used her hyperbole too early - she’s kissing Kara and she’s soaring, they’re a hundred miles in the air and totally alone; they have the whole world to themselves.

“Wait,” Lena says suddenly, tearing herself away from Kara, the loss of contact as jarring as a bucket of ice water. “Wait.”

“I’m sorry,” Kara says quickly, pulling back, “Is this too much?”

“No, God, no,” Lena says, “It’s just- I think I know what to do about Lex.”

Kara nods. “Okay. Meet me back in my cabin. I’ll find Alex.”

There’s a moment where neither woman wants to leave the crow’s nest first, but eventually Kara laughs, kisses Lena soundly, and descends the ladder. Lena follows, and before long, she’s in Kara’s cabin with the two Danvers sisters.

She sifts through the thoughts that riot through her brain, still upended from the day’s trauma and from the feeling of Kara’s lips, trying to find the first thread of the plan that her subconscious had put together.

“Do you know which newspapers were the first to publish stories of _The Overman_ as a cruel pirate ship?” Lena asks eventually.

“It was _The Globe_ ,” Kara says, “They were always the first to break a new story about Clark. Eventually, other papers began to recirculate their stories.”

“That’s what I thought,” Lena says, the satisfaction of being right mixing with the acid of realizing another of Lex’s misdeeds, “Lex had a contact at _The Globe_. He’d call to discuss what he called ‘minor inconsistencies’ but he always got his way.”

“What makes you think that Lex’s contact would help us?” Alex asks, “What’s stopping them from having us taken in, or just killing us on the spot?”

“The orders that Lex sent out,” Lena explains, “The destruction of _The Lutessa_ should be common knowledge by now. If we leave the letters with orders to have them sent somewhere - the Queen, maybe - if we don’t retrieve them, he can’t touch us.”

“So we’re just going to go in and blackmail Lex Luthor’s lackey?”

Lena shrugs. “Maybe. The story can be a carrot as easily as it can be a rod. The owner of the Luthor Trading Company trying to kill his own sister could be the story of the decade and should more than make up for face loss in printing retractions about _The Overman_.”

“You’re offering yourself as collateral,” Alex says, “Why? You never knew Clark.”

“It’s not about Clark,” Lena says, “It’s about doing the right thing.” She glances at Kara, whose eyes are shining by the light of the lamp. “And some things are worth doing.”

Alex catches the glance and nods. “Uh huh. First, gross, and second, I’m glad you finally talked it out. She was pretty distraught when she thought you were leaving us for good.”

“Alex!” Kara gasps, “Don’t tell her that!”

Alex smiles, and there’s genuine affection in her eyes that she’s never directed towards Lena before. “It’s not a whole plan, but it’s a start. The two of you should get some rest - doctor’s orders. We’ll figure the rest out on the way back to Belfast.” She leaves, and as the door closes behind her, Lena realizes that she’s alone with Kara, and that there’s a bed behind them, a bed that they’ve already-

Her realizations are somewhat interrupted by Kara scooping her up in her arms and gently depositing her into that very bed.

In the end, Lena feels that the trip back across the Atlantic is incredibly fast, although that may be a side effect of spending so much of it indulging in her newfound ability to kiss Kara.

“Land ho!” Winn cries out from the crow’s nest; the Irish coast is within sight.

“About time,” Alex grumbles, “If I have to catch these two kissing one more time…”

“We’re not that bad,” Kara says defensively, but the sentiment is a little ruined by the fact that her back is pressed into Lena’s chest as they watch the approaching land.

“We have to be careful,” Lena cautions, “The Luthor Trading Company’s headquarters are only a few blocks away from _The Globe_ ’s offices.”

“We’ll keep a watch out,” Winn offers, motioning to Lucy and James.

Alex nods. “Then Kara, Lena, and I can go in and see who we need to talk to.”

Lena puts on one of Kara’s old coats and turns the collar up before pulling a cap low across her eyes. She’s been reported dead and it wouldn’t do to be recognized before they’ve found who they need to speak to.

They take a pair of dandys to shore, which Mike and John bring back to _The Krypton_. “Where to?” Kara asks, and there’s excitement in her voice that’s completely incongruous with the sour anxiety that Lena feels in anticipation of what they’re about to do.

“This way,” she says, motioning.

They don’t have much trouble making it to the offices of _The Globe_ and even less finding who their target is; Alex explains that they’re there under Lex Luthor’s orders and flashes the insignias that they pulled off of the Luthor Trading Company men in Havana and they’re ushered in almost too quickly. They’re taken to the top floor of the building and Lena’s stomach lurches as she considers that they may be walking into a trap, but then they’re shown to an office door and left alone.

Kara wastes no time in knocking. “Come in,” comes a muffled voice from within.

Kara opens the door; the office is incredibly messy. Books and papers lie, strewn and open, around the space. There are three chairs that were presumably once for visitors, but they have since been covered in messy stacks of documents and empty bottles. Seated behind the desk is a woman whose shirt is stained with drink and food, whose dark hair has long gone without a brush, whose voice is muffled because her face is pressed against her desk. She looks up when the Lena and the Danvers walk in and her eyes are glazed with drink.

“Oh my God, I knew this would happen,” the woman said, “Who are you? How did I hurt you?”

This wasn’t the confrontation that they had expected, but Kara presses on. “My name is Kara. Clark El was my cousin, before-”

“Before I slandered him and gave Lex Luthor reason to have him executed? I know, I know.” The woman rummages around in her desk drawer before pulling out a bottle and taking a deep drink from the amber liquid within.

“Why did you do it?” Kara asks, and it’s a testament to her character that it isn’t asked with anger, but curiosity.

“My name is Samantha Arias,” the woman says, her voice exhausted, “And it’s true, I have wronged your cousin, but I did it for my daughter.”

Alex is no less curious, but where Lena expected anger, there’s an uncharacteristic softness. “What do you mean?”

“When Ruby was born, I was approached by Mr. Luthor. He offered to take her in as a ward, to raise her towards a position in the Company. I jumped at the offer, of course - I was a single mother, I had no money for a child,” Sam explained, her voice growing stronger as she continued to talk, “It started simply - when he needed new investors, he’d ask me to alter the number of ships the Company was reported to send out, or he’d ask me to drop stories about ships that were attacked en route. But then, he wanted more. My role at _The Globe_ was increasing, and I’m sure it was because of him. He wanted me to start making things up, things like _The Overman_ , or he’d tell me to drop whole lines of inquiry, and when I protested, he threatened my daughter.” Samantha’s eyes are flinty, hard. “Get my daughter to safety and I’ll print whatever you need.”

“We won’t be safe here,” Lena says, “If we take Ruby, Lex will realize what we’ve done.”

Sam’s eyes break away from Alex and she notices Lena for the first time. “Oh my God, aren’t you supposed to be dead?”

“Reports of my death may have been somewhat exaggerated,” Lena says drily, “Thanks to these two.”

“We’ll get Ruby,” Kara says, interrupting, “Go to the docks and look for the tallest man there. His name is John, tell him that Kara sent you and he’ll take you to my ship, _The Krypton._ We’ll meet you there when we have your daughter.”

“I won’t be able to print your story from there,” Sam says uncertainly, “Why would you help me escape if I can’t clear your cousin’s name?”

“It’s not about Clark,” Alex says quickly, “It’s about doing the right thing.”

Sam considers this for a moment before nodding. “She about so high,” she says, holding a hand up to about mid-chest height, “Hair like mine, smart as a whip.” She leaves the bottle behind when she leaves the office.

“So we need a new plan,” Alex says, resolutely ignoring the amusement evident on the other women’s faces.

“What’s today?” Lena asks.

“July 11,” Kara reads off of Sam’s calendar.

Lena grins - the stars are truly aligned. “That’s perfect. Today’s the shareholder meeting for the Company. Lex should be occupied entertaining the board - we should be able to get in and out without any trouble at all.”

“How will we find Ruby?” Kara asks.

“Even if Lex betrayed me, there’s at least one person I can trust in there,” Lena says, hoping that she’s not lying, “He’ll know where she is.”

“Okay,” Kara says, “These uniforms should get us in. Is there anything else we should know about the place?”

Lena thinks about it. “No, I don’t think so. Lex uses dogs, but they should know my scent. And as long as I keep the cap on, I shouldn’t be recognized either - it’s not like they’ll be looking for a dead woman.”

By cover of night, it’s easy enough to get into Tilney Manor, the headquarters of the Luthor Trading Company. As Lena predicted, the uniforms allow them to just walk in. “Where to now?” Alex asks once they’re safely inside the mansion.

“Jack always hated these meetings; he preferred to stay in the kitchens and harass the cooks into giving him extra pastries.”

Kara raises an eyebrow at the name and at Lena’s familiarity, but she doesn’t mention it, something that Lena’s grateful for. “Lead on,” she says.

There’s a close call when they pass by Veronica Sinclair, the Head of Shipping, a woman who is probably high enough up in the company that she’s met Lena enough times to recognize her, but Lena pulls her cap down and makes it by without being noticed.

“I can’t go inside,” Lena says once they’ve reached the kitchens, “They’ll recognize me inside and we don’t have time to explain ourselves to the whole staff. Jack will be the only one in a suit, tell him that I need to see him.”

Kara nods and she and Alex disappear into the kitchen. It’s a tense minute or so before they emerge again, dragging a wide-eyed Jack by the hand.

“Lena,” he says, “Lena, my God, we thought you were dead, I can’t believe it.” He pulls her into an embrace and she has to fight the tears back. There can be time for reunions later; they have a job to do.

“It’s a long story,” she says, “We need to find someone. A young girl, Ruby Arias.”

“I know her,” Jack says, and his eyes haven’t left Lena’s face, drinking her in as if he expects her to disappear at any minute, “She’s probably upstairs. Lex doesn’t let her wander much.”

“Can you show us?” Lena asks.

Jack nods. “Lena, was it- The reports about _The Lutessa_ were so polished, it was like they knew it was going to happen. Did-”

“It was Lex,” Lena says, and it still hurts to say out loud.

Jack’s face tightens and his jaw sets. “I’ll kill him,” he says quietly.

“No, Jack,” Lena says, “We have to do this. It’s important. We have to get Ruby and then we have to get out. You should come with us.”

Jack looks at Lena, then at Kara, whose eyes are fiery, an uncharacteristic enmity spilling off of her. “I don’t think your girlfriend would like that very much,” he says.

“It’ll be fine, Kara,” Lena says reassuringly, “We can introduce him to Mike, I bet they’d hit it off great.”

Jack barks out a laugh as Kara makes the connection. “You mean?”

“It was easier to tell people we were together,” Lena says with a shrug. “Lex is a little traditional about some things.”

“Matchmaking aside, can we get a move on?” Alex says impatiently, “There’s a girl who needs us.”

And sure, she might have ulterior motives, but it doesn’t change the fact that Ruby does need them, so they leave, heading for the stairs. The house is familiar, but the sense of urgency, the need to move unseen isn’t, and the combination is unsettling.

“This is her room,” Jack says eventually, knocking on a door in the east wing.

A young girl, the spitting image of her mother, answers. “Yes, Mr. Spheer?” she says, “Mr. Luthor said that I could have the night off.”

“You need to come with us,” Lena says, suddenly filled with the need to escape the house and to never return.

“Who are you?” Ruby asks, looking to Jack for guidance.

“Your mother sent us,” Alex says quickly, “Samantha Arias. She’s waiting for you.”

“Oh my God,” Ruby says, “Thank God.” She goes back into her room for a moment and grabs an already packed bag. “Let’s go.”

They’ve made it down the stairs when the large double doors to the hall open up. “Enjoy the rest of the evening,” a voice cries out amidst thunderous applause, “And thank you for your continued hard work on behalf of the company!”

Lena’s heart sinks - it’s her brother, and there’s no way that they can hide. Indeed, he shuts the door and turns. His jovial grin, twists into something unfamiliar, something unrecognizable. “What are you doing here?” he snarls.

“Alex, take Ruby and run,” Kara says, “That’s an order.”

For once in her life, Alex obeys, grabbing Ruby by the hand and dashing out.

“Go ahead and call the guards,” Kara says, “They’ll see Lena and know what you’ve done.”

“What I’ve done? You don’t understand anything,” Lex sneers.

“You had me killed,” Lena says, and she hopes desperately, frantically, that he’ll deny it, that there’s some other explanation.

“Well, I tried,” he says instead, “But I guess you just can’t get good help anymore.”

Kara unsheathes her sword and steps so that she’s between the two Luthors. Jack pulls a decorative pike off of the wall. “Don’t bother, Spheer,” Lex says, “We all know you’re more likely to skewer yourself on that then actually help.”

With that, Lex draws his own sword and steps forward, swinging wildly at Kara. He’s always been skilled with the blade, but he’s also aggressive, and fighting to kill, and he’s able to push Kara, and by extension, Jack and Lena, back several feet.

“Why did you try to kill me?” Lena asks, slipping around the fight, “Why did you kill Clark?”

“Oh, don’t make this about you,” Lex says, deftly parrying a strike from Kara, “It was never about you, just like it was never about Clark.”

“Then why?” Lena asks, slipping open the door to the hall.

“Do you know how much money there is in wars, Lena? All I needed was a reason to wage war against piracy, a reason to need letters of marque. With you slain by pirates, I could justify raising a fleet and with _The Globe_ , we could take any prize we wanted and call it justice. Clark was a proof of concept.”

There’s a moment where the only sound is the clang of steel on steel, and then, from the hall, a voice cries out. “Do you mean to say that you wanted to turn us into your own personal pirate fleet?” It’s Veronica Sinclair, and she and the rest of the evening’s guests, the company’s directors and major shareholders, are on their feet.

Lex whips around, eyes wild. They bulge as he sees that the entire company has heard his plan. “You did this,” he howls, and with a vicious swipe, he knocks Kara’s sword out of her hands. She stumbles in surprise, and he kicks her to the ground.

Lex pulls his arm back; Kara is on the floor, her blade is five feet away, there’s no way she can dodge - Lena begins to scream. Jack, who has been silent, watching the duel and listening to Lex’s madness, springs into action. He races across the room and leaps across Kara, leaps right into Lex’s thrust. The sword pierces him cleanly through the stomach and his eyes flutter shut as he lands, crumpled against the wall, Lex’s sword still piercing his body.

“No,” Lena howls, as Lex looks down, then at Jack, unable to parse what has just happened.

Kara is more decisive. She scrambles to her feet, retrieves her sword, and holds it to Lex’s throat. “Yield,” she says, and he does, sinking to his knees, plain hatred written across his face as the president of French affairs and the director of acquisitions run over and tie his hands.

“Jack,” Lena says, and rushing to his side, but there’s already someone leaning over him.

“I’m a shareholder,” he explains, but Lena doesn’t care why he’s there, doesn’t care that his pin-striped suit doesn’t quite fit him, doesn’t care that shoes are unlike anything she’s ever seen before.

“Is he going to be okay?” she asks.

“It’s just a flesh wound,” the doctor says, unreasonably cheerful for someone who’s just watched a man stabbed, “He’ll be just fine. I’ll take him in, and he’ll be right as rain before you even know he was hurt.”

Lena nods. “I- Can you tell him that I’m on board _The Krypton_?”

“Of course,” the doctor says, “As you say, Ms. Luthor.”

Lena and Kara slip out among the chaos of the police arriving to take Lex away. Lena is eager to leave the Manor behind - she’ll have to return some day, but right now, the thought of staying in Belfast is a non-starter.

They make it back to _The Krypton_ in time to see Alex determining sleeping arrangements for their two new guests.

“We- there’s an extra hammock in the crew’s quarters, if Ruby is okay with that,” Alex says, and Lena is almost too shocked at how nervous Alex sounds to parse what she’s said.

Only almost, though, so she blurts out, “There are extra hammocks? So why did I stay in Kara’s bed after I got better?”

Kara turns bright red. “You never asked,” she says, and if she was going for a dignified tone, the effect is somewhat ruined by her incredible resemblance to an apple.

“I’ll ask her; thank you for the accomodations,” Sam says. She pauses a second to think, before asking, “Only one hammock, you said?”

“Ah, yes,” Alex says, entirely unconvincingly.

Sam laughs and looks Alex right in the eyes. “I suppose I’ll have to find somewhere else to sleep then?”

And it’s incredible, really, that the Danvers sisters, for all their grace on the battlefield, for all of their cunning and calm in the face of danger, they are both unable to keep it together in the presence of a pretty woman.


End file.
